


Empty Vessels Make the Loudest Sound

by Caseycuervo



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, F/M, Gen, M/M, Romance, Secrets, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caseycuervo/pseuds/Caseycuervo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heero holds a secret close, and when it's discovered by an untrustworthy source his life is flipped on its axis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Gundam Wing AC.
> 
> Author's Note: Special thanks to ExecutiveShrimp for beta-ing and letting me pick her brain, and Emocloud for reading this like two months ago when the idea for this story was still incredibly raw.

Title: Empty Vessels Make the Loudest Sound

-Preface-

_"Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides," - Andre Malraux_

-February 16th AC 201-

Lieutenant Yuy was known well for being strict with the newbie's under his command. He was notorious for punishing back talking with rigorous exercise, night shifts, and excessive paperwork duty. Though he was harsh on his trainees, the individuals under his watch tended to be some of the Preventers most well-adjusted and capable field agents. Any insubordination to his orders were always met with swift, just discipline. It was because of these established facts that made his students question why he was consistently lenient or even dismissive of Agent Donahue's behavior.

Agent Paul Donahue often made rude comments, and even ridiculed Lieutenant Yuy's training technique. He also could barely hold his own through the simplest of missions, but he advanced faster than the rest. The other trainees were beginning to question their Lieutenants judgment of Donahue, and suspected him of favoritism, which didn't make much sense since Donahue was far from the class pet, his harsh judgments put him in the typical roll of a bully. Whenever one of them talked back to Yuy, they were met with a grating discipline, often so that they were starting to dislike their leader greatly. And when his men questioned his actions regarding Donahue, Lieutenant Yuy "played dumb". Heero Yuy had his reasons for treating him way he does, and letting Paul Donahue do as he pleased, but no one knew why. Except for them.

"Dude, why'd you let that Donahue piece of shit advance to level three?" Lieutenant Maxwell asked his friend and occasional partner.

Heero sighed. "Because he met my requirements," he responded and continued to walk through the hall to his office.

Duo followed him hot on his tail. "No he didn't," he exacerbated. "He's a lazy ass and couldn't even do a proper drug bust on a low-level dealer."

"Just leave it alone, Duo," Heero snarled.

Duo raised both hands in a surrendering fashion and walked off in the direction of his own office. Heero didn't care what Donahue did, just as long as he kept his mouth shut.

Heero entered his office, closed and locked the door, and leaned heavily against it. Releasing a lofty sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to calm his tense nerves. He had dealt with plenty of disrespectful trainees over the past four years. Some didn't like the fact that someone younger than they held a higher position and had to take orders from someone half their age.

The Japanese man tried desperately to focus on the work that needed to be completed before the end of the workday and not Donahue. The new agent held obvious contempt and disdain for him, it was written clear as day on his face whenever they were in the same room. But Heero rather bite his tongue, and let Donahue get away with murder than deal with the consequences of having his secret revealed.

-The Next Day-

"Hey 'Ro, it's Friday. What're you up to tonight?" Duo asked as he leaned his hip against the counter in the break room.

The Japanese man shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing. Is there a poker game going on tonight?" The five ex-gundam pilots got together as frequent as possible, often over poker night, where they would enjoy the game, drinks, and talk about whatever. Heero really enjoyed spending time with his four best friends. He considered himself rather lucky to have such strong ties and understandings with them.

After the war, he had tried to distance himself from his comrades only to realize that in doing so, he was severing very strong bonds. Friendship was a concept that hadn't come easy to the former Wing pilot, and when he realized that he had four – possibly five people he could always count on – he made the conscious decision not to end the connection. Over time Heero discerned just how lucky he was in the way of friendship. Office gossip of betrayals and backstabbing were always heard around the water cooler, and he had people in his life that would never do such things to him. Well, as long as they didn't know.

"Naw, actually 'Fei and I were wanting to go to Daily's, you know, on Empressa and Las Flores," Duo boasted. "Think we can get Tro and Q-ball to tag along?"

"They don't really care for the bar scene," Heero stated, taking a sip from his steaming cup of bitter black coffee.

The braided man huffed. "Yeah, but we haven't gone out as a group in a while. So, I say we try to convince 'em." Duo leaned in and gave Heero a large grin, knowing that the blue-eyed man was the one who could convince Trowa into going out with them, which would inadvertently lead to Quatre agreeing as well.

Heero rolled his eyes. "I'll talk to Trowa, but no guarantees."

"That's fine. And hey, if they don't want to go, I doubt 'Fei will wanna come, so it could just me and -"

"I have to get back to work," Heero interjected.

A crestfallen expression crossed Duo's face for the briefest of moments. "Alright," he said. "Let me know what Tro says." And with that, the two men left the break room and headed back to their separate workspace.

Heero hadn't meant to hurt Duo's feelings, and it wasn't that he didn't wish to spend time with him alone, but when they were alone, it was awkward. There was a tangible sexual tension between the two, and Heero wasn't ready to deal with it yet. He would approach it in eight months...if Duo was still interested.

Being the news junkie that he is, Duo spent most of his office time searching the web for anything interesting happening on Earth or in space. Most all of his paperwork was dulled out to his rookies, whom were happy to help out their beloved Lieutenant. Skimming the screen in front of him, the braided man rested his chin in his fleshy palm as he scrolled further down the page. There wasn't much of anything that caught his interest until a side article caption captured his bored eyes: "Genetically Altered Persons of War Dying". A knot formed in his stomach, tightening his intestines nauseously as he clicked the link quickly.

Reading the article briskly it all became painfully clear. There were numerous people dying from the treatment they'd received before the war that was suppose to make them into more capable soldiers. A group of scientist who were formally located on the L1 colony believed they had created super human warriors by adding and removing specific chromosomes from the genome. The DNA manipulation worked for its intended purpose, but as the soldiers aged their bodies began to wither. Their deaths are a painstakingly slow process wherein the body shuts down by one organ at a time. The scientists' whereabouts are unknown and subsequently, cannot be brought to justice for their crimes against Humanity.

Duo knew Heero had been modified for war and that posed the question, is he dying? Was his DNA spliced as severally as those whom were dropping like flies? Sending the article to the Japanese man via e-mail, Duo typed underneath,  _Do you know about this?_ And waited impatiently for a response.

A tiny chat window opened at the bottom left of the screen with Heero's name and reply:  _Yes, I'm aware of this._

_: …Are you dying too?_

_: No, Duo, I'm not dying._

_: Seriously. If you are, you have to tell me right fucking now._

_: I'm fine._

_: You better not be lying to me._

_: I'm not lying to you._

_: If I find out you are, I'll kill you._

_: Okay, if I'm lying and you figure it out, I give you permission to murder me. Just hide my corpse really well._

_: I'll hide your dead body between the walls in my apartment._

_: That's a little gross, but okay._

_: I'll pour kitty litter over you so you don't stink up my place with your rotting flesh._

_: Just don't molest me after you've done it._

_: No promises._

_: Ewww. Alright, I'm getting back to work now._

_: lol, k. I'll be dreaming of you naked on my bed, minus a pulse._

_: You're real fucked up. You know that, right?_

_: Yup._

_: Bye_

_: ttyl_

Duo swiveled back and forth in his office chair, pondering the possibility of Heero being untruthful. Venturing to place himself in Heero's shoes, the violet-eyed man conjectured that he too would keep something like that a well-guarded secret. He wouldn't want his friends watching over him as he shriveled into a ghost of his former self. With Heero being the way he is – reserved and secretive – Duo understood why he'd be as unforthcoming about this as he would about any other thing. Maybe this was why the blue-eyed man kept him at an arms length. Since the end of the war, their bond had succeeded friendship and entered the realms of honest affection and attraction, but Heero was noticeably halting the progression of their shared desires. If he were in fact dying slowly, Duo could understand why the Japanese man wouldn't want to drag him into a relationship only to pass away, like so many others had done in his life. Or maybe he was fretting over nothing and Heero was just fine, but if one day he disappeared without a trace, Duo would know why.

-Flashback-

_Slender pale arms wrapped around the stiff body of another boy. As if sleeping in alleyways in the dead of winter wasn't awful enough, the virus that plagued the undesirable souls of L2 were killing off their inhabitants at an alarming rate. The pale boy squeeze his friend tighter for warmth, but something wasn't right. He was as cold as the early morning air around them. Pushing himself up, the unnamed boy with large violet eyes peered down at his friends' ashen face peculiarly._

_"Solo?" he rasped out. The slightly older boy didn't open his eyes. Didn't move. Didn't appear to be breathing. Shaking his friend, the boy squeaked pitifully, "Solo?" He whined like a sad puppy, hot tears rolling down his hollowed cheeks. "Solo?" his cries echoed off the brick exteriors of the surrounding buildings, waking the other children and preteens in their gang._

_Eventually one of the older girls pried him off their group leader. She ushered him away, wrapped a tattered torn blanket around his quivering form, and attempted to calm him. "It's okay," she soothed, brushing his chestnut bangs out of his dirty face. "Solo's always going to be with us, with you."_

_He reflected on what she had said for the rest of the day, and as he laid his head back down on a cardboard box for another night of trembling sleep, the little boy mumbled, "If Solo's with me, we'll be Duo."_

-End Flashback-

Could he really be strong enough to preserver through another loss equivalent to that? Duo wasn't sure. All he could do was pray and hope he wouldn't be loosing Heero or another friend until they were old wrinkly men.

-Later That Evening-

The five ex-gundam pilots all recently twenty-one except Trowa who was a year older – maybe? Who really knew how old they were – met at Daily's around seven in the evening. Heero was successful in convincing Trowa to drag his and Quatre's ass to the local watering hole. They enjoyed drinks and a variety of games that the sports bar played on multiple television screens. They cheered for the teams they preferred, and booed the teams they disliked. Most of their favored teams were from their home colonies, all except for Wufei's who preferred any and all teams from China.

On his fifth beer, Heero was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol in his system. Duo excused himself to use the restroom and three pairs of eyes laid into the blue-eyed man.

"What?" Heero asked uncomfortable under their piercing stares.

Wufei cocked an eyebrow and asked, "When are you two just going to hook up and get it over with already?"

Heero feigned ignorance. "I don't know what you mean."

An exasperated snort came from their blonde companion. "Oh, come off it already. You two flirt all the time."

"No we don't!" Heero refuted.

Trowa smirked and added, "Yes, you do. It's obvious that you like him, and he's liked you for god knows how long. What's holding you back?"

"Nothing," he grunted and crossed his arms over his chest.

Wufei deadpanned, "Then do something. Even we can feel the strain."

-Next Monday-

"Everyone is to go though the course four times," Lieutenant Yuy, commanded his group. Heero noticed Donahue snickering and whispering back and forth with two other agents - Batista and O'Brien - in the rear of the group. At his command, the three men glared back at their Lieutenant.

"Go!" Heero barked. Most of the class took off in a dead sprint to get through the course as quickly as possible, while the gossiping men jogged lazily to start. O'Brien intentionally knocked his shoulder against Heero's as he passed him, an ape-like gesture to dare any kind of reprimand. The bump to the shoulder jostled Heero a little, but the disgusted looks he had received from the three men made his heart pound and his throat tighten. Donahue was talking. He had to put an end to it.

After the newbie's had finished the grueling training course four times, they dispersed into the locker room to wash up. Heero grabbed Donahue by the elbow, and yanked him off to the side.

"Get your hands off me," the agent-in-training snarled.

"What did you say to Batista and O'Brien?" Heero growled quietly.

A smug smirk played on Donahue's face as his hazel eyes glittered with mischief. "Did you honestly think I'd keep quiet just because you're letting me advance faster than the everyone else?"

"So they know?"

"Yeah, they know," Donahue laughed and smiled boldly.

Dismay was making Heero's hands tremble and palms sweat. "What do I have to do to make sure you keep your mouth shut?" He asked angrily, brows furrowing in a vicious death glare.

Donahue raised his right hand, and circled his thumb over his index and middle finger.

An offended snort came from the Japanese man. "You want money," he stated.

"Yeah, how much are you willing to pay to keep your nasty little secret?" Donahue asked with a wide toothy grin.

"How much do you want?"

The older man shrugged. "Don't know. Give me a few days to think about it."

"Fine. Keep O'Brien and Batista quiet." Heero turned on his heel and left.

Back in his office, Heero rubbed his temples in attempt to rid a headache.  _/I either pay him, or kill him and the other two./_  He didn't find the second option to be a solution. Heero only killed in the line of duty, he was no murderer. But he had to keep them quiet. If his "nasty little secret" got out, he would be ruined. The few other people who had known in the past never treated him the way Donahue did.

-Flashback-

_"Alright kid, you pretend to be my son and I'll teach ya everything I know." The man smiled and reached out his hand._

-End Flashback-

There was a knock on Heero's open office door. The dark-haired Japanese man looked up to see Duo leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his broad chest, and a questioning expression on his heart-shaped face.

"What's wrong?" The braided man asked, concern dripping from his every word.

Removing his hands from the sides of his head, Heero replied, "Nothing."

Duo eyed him suspiciously, and shrugged it off a moment later. There was that little nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to watch the blue-eyed man closely for any signs of ailment. Duo still wasn't convinced that Heero wasn't dying from what the scientists had done to him. Figuring former zero one was bending the truth about "feeling fine", Duo decided not to call him out on it. Getting Heero to open up about something he didn't want to discuss was like getting him to eat Brussels sprouts, impossible. Duo hated those nasty green things, and cringed at the sight and smell of them.

Crossing the threshold, Duo sat at the edge of Heero's desk and began fiddling with the few picture frames that were placed on the wood surface. One of them was of all five pilots just after rescuing Relena from Dekim Barton and Mariemaia. They all smiled or smirked, except for Heero who kept up his stony façade. The second frame held a photo of Relena and Heero together. In that particular picture, Heero had a goofy little smirk on his face. He had been fairly drunk on the first anniversary of the Eves War, thanks to Duo. The third was of Duo himself, shocked and gun drawn. His nineteenth self-appointed birthday had been a surprise party. Duo had walked into his dark apartment, jumped and pulled his gun out when the lights turned on and everyone screamed "SURPRISE!" Sally snapped the photograph just before everyone ducked for cover. No shots had been fired, but they all decided that surprise parties might not be the best idea for the former Gundam pilots.

The images made Duo smile softly. "Can you believe it's almost been five years since the Barton Foundations uprising?"

"It doesn't seem that long ago, does it?" Heero responded wistfully.

"No, it doesn't. Five years of peace, and fighting to maintain it. We gotta do something great for the anniversary this year," Duo said as he turned his beaming smile in Heero's direction. That smile along with those shining violet eyes made Heero grin in return. Over the past five years, Heero had gotten more comfortable showing his emotions on his face. Smiling and laughing came easily now. He was still trying to live by his emotions, even though the ones he had for Duo had to wait.

"What're you doin' for lunch today?" The violet-eyed man asked.

"Meeting up with Relena at that bistro place."

Duo chuckled. "The Vice Foreign Minister find time in her busy schedule to have a social life?"

Heero rolled his eyes. "For today, at least."

-Lunch-

"So, how are things with you?" Relena asked, taking a drag off her cigarette. The Vice Foreign Ministers smoking habit was a well-kept secret.

Heero scowled at the woman in the wide brim hat, sunglasses, and shall wrapped around her head and hair. Whenever out in public she disguised herself so she could have a taste of normalcy in her very public life. "You know, I didn't save your life just so you could kill yourself slowly with cigarettes," he disapproved.

She smirked. "Please don't lecture me again. I know all the health risks that come with smoking, I'm not an invalid. And you tried to kill me first."

Heero grunted and stabbed at his salad. "Coulda fooled me, and I only tried to kill you because you were in the way and annoying."

Relena dipped her fingers into her glass of water and flicked water droplets at her friend. "Quatre tells me you still haven't done anything about Duo."

"Why do you two always gossip about my life?" He glared down at his food.

She put her cigarette out in an ashtray and teased, "Because you're so fascinating."

"Yup, I'm oh so interesting," he deadpanned.

"Hey, we just want to see you happy," she argued.

"I am happy."

"Okay, we want to see you happy  _with_  someone. You've never dated anyone, and the only reason Duo has is because he thinks you're unattainable. And it's so obvious that you like each other, even he knows you like him," she ranted.

"Yeah, he tries to ask me out every once in a while," Heero replied cracking his knuckles uncomfortably.

Both Relena's eyebrows shot up from behind her large sunglasses. "So what's the problem?"

"I'm not ready," he answered.

"Not ready? What needs to happen to get you to be  _ready_?" She questioned.

"Just...something! I'll be able to do something about it in a few months."

"Oh my god, you have a time-table on this matter, don't you? Just how many months?"

"Eight."

"Eight months?" She parroted. "That's almost a whole year, Heero. What if Duo meets someone?"

"Well, that's out of my control," Heero replied. Although the idea of Duo dating again didn't sit well with him, Heero wanted to take their friendship to a new level, but it really did have to wait.

"I've got to go," said Heero.

Relena gaped, "You've only eaten half your lunch!"

"I know, but I have a doctor's appointment to get to before I go back to work," he stated while getting to his feet. They said goodbye and he kissed her on the cheek and left.

Heero had his own private doctor and therapist. He opted out of using the Preventers medical faculty for a personal reason, even though it was free. All agents had to have monthly check ups and psychological evaluations. Dr. Xaio was someone he trusted, who also forged his medical papers that had to be sent back to the Preventers. His therapist, Dr. Forester, also forged his evaluations. Not everything was a lie in his medical files, just certain aspects.

"Alright, there you go Heero," Dr. Xaio said happily, pulling the needle from his patients right arm. "You're ninety-eight percent done. Six more months and you'll be ready for the final procedure."

A genuine grin graced Heero's face. "Yeah, I can't wait. The date has already been chosen."

"That's fantastic. When is it?" the doctor asked genuinely interested.

Fighting back an ecstatic grin, Heero confided, "July twenty-seventh. Gregor Beins is my surgeon."

"Excellent, excellent, Beins is a fantastic practitioner. Here's your prescription, it's a lower dosage since you're almost done, and your body should be producing most of it on its own," Dr. Xaio stated and passed the slip of paper to Heero.

"Thanks," he credited. "Same time next month?"

"Yup, see you then."

-Wednesday-

Heero waited by his car in the underground parking structure at Preventers Headquarters. He tapped his foot in annoyance. Donahue was late.

When the man finally showed up and approached him, Heero asked, "How much do you want?"

"Hmm, seventy-five thousand sounds good to me," Donahue smiled.

"Seventy five thousand?" Heero croaked. Feigning shock was his best route. The war funds he had stolen over five years ago totaled close to five million, but Donahue didn't need to know that.

"Yeah, twenty-five for me, O'Brien and Batista," Donahue grinned wider. "Think you can manage that?"

"I'll see what I can do."

-Thursday-

Heero contacted Donahue through text message and told the bottom feeder he had the money. He had decided to just pay the amount sooner, rather than later. Donahue supplied the account numbers for which the money was to be wired to.

Five minutes later, it was done.  _/Maybe now all of this will end./_  But things could never be that easy.

-March 22nd AC 201-

His three trainees kept up their insubordinate actions, though slightly milder than before since he'd paid them off a month ago. The money had soothed some of their wrath. Though when Heero made an example out of O'Brien for failing miserably on a particular task, the flame of revenge was lit once again. The secret they knew held a great power over their Lieutenant, which was too tempting not to use and put him back in his place. They would make sure Heero knew what was what and reaffirm the fear in his heart.

Trowa and Heero padded into the locker room after swimming one hundred laps in the Olympic size pool the Preventers had as part of their gym. They enjoyed competing and racing against each other. It was similar to how Heero would spar with Wufei, or wrestle with Duo, or debate politics with Quatre or Relena. It was simply their thing.

"You're getting slow, Yuy," Trowa teased and nudged the Japanese man with his elbow.

Approaching their lockers, Heero rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever," he snorted. Heero gasped and froze when he caught sight of his locker.

Glancing over his shoulder, Trowa saw his friends' locker. The teal metal was tarnished with the word "FREAK" written with red spray paint. The smell of the paint hung very potent in the air. "What the fuck?" He exclaimed and slammed his own locker loudly, the clatter echoing off the concrete walls. "What're we in third grade? Who pulls stunts like this shit?"

Heero just shook his head in disbelief, gathered his clothes from the locker and headed for the showers. Spotting another agent at the end of the row of lockers sitting on the metal bench, Trowa approached and asked, "Do you know who did this?" He was livid for his friend.

The agent replied, "I wasn't here when it happened Lieutenant Barton, but I heard it was Tristan O'Brien, sir."

"Who's O'Brien?" The tall man asked.

"He's one of Lieutenant Yuy's rookies," he answered. Just then Heero came back changed but un-showered. He would probably never use the facilities ever again thanks to  _that day_.

"Hey, you need to do something about this," Trowa told his friend.

Heero shrugged. "Don't worry, I'll deal with it."

"Fire the guy! Une will back you up on it," Trowa demanded. If one of his trainees did this to him, he'd send them out of the program instantly. "We don't need agents who do crap like this."

"I said, I'll deal with it," Heero insisted.

Heero left, and Trowa couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. That mask of indifference, which Heero uses to hide behind had slipped back on. He was certain it wasn't a good thing. Trowa had seen a change in Heero's demeanor over the past few weeks, and couldn't figure out what was going on with his friend. The blue-eyed man appeared more stressed, and an air of sadness surrounded him.

-Later that Day-

"So Heero, our time is almost up, is there anything in particular you would like to talk about?" Dr. Forester asked her patient.

Heero shook his head. "No, everything's going fine."

"You haven't met with any recent harassment?" She asked brushing her blond bangs out of her eyes.

-Flashback-

_"..what the.." Agent Donahue's face pinched in confusion. A split second passed and his eyes widen, his mouth opened in shock._

-End Flashback-

Swallowing a lump, Heero answered, "Nope, only my close friends know."

"It's very good that you have such a strong support group," Dr. Forester smiled. "Not everyone in your situation is so lucky."

A small smirk graced Heero's lips. "Yeah, lucky." If only that were truly the case.

-Friday-

"Hey, I heard one of your rookie's vandalized your gym locker," Duo said, taking a seat in the available chair in front of Heero's desk.

"Yeah," the stoic man supplied.

Resting his chin in his hand, Duo asked, "Whatchu do about it? If it were me I woulda just fired the prick."

"I dealt with it," Heero shrugged.

Dou's brows furrowed, creasing the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I heard," he argued. "I heard you didn't do anything."

Slamming his fists on his desk Heero yelled, "Damn it Duo, just leave it alone!"

The braided man flinched at his friends' outburst. "Alright," he said in a quiet voice.

"I'm sorry," Heero muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Stressed out."

Duo smirked. "Maybe you need a little fun, neh?"

"Like what?" Heero asked eyeing the man across from him suspiciously.

Shrugging his shoulders, Duo offered, "Why don't you and me go play a few games of pool at Daily's, tonight? Have a few drinks and shoot the shit."

Lowering his blue eyes to the computer keyboard in front of him, Heero mumbled, "I don't know." He didn't have to look up to know Duo was disappointed. Heero consistently turned Duo down when he suggested just the two of them do something together.

"Fine!" Snapped Duo, and removed himself from Heero's office. The hot and cold attitude shit was really starting to wear Duo down. He was contemplating leaving the whole thing with Heero behind, and looking for someone else. He couldn't keep waiting. They'd been doing this little back and forth dance for quite sometime. Every now and then, Duo would loose hope, date other people. After each break up he felt like he was getting closer to breaking Heero down, but chipping away at Heero's gundanium alloy shell was a tiring task. Dead or dying or not, Duo didn't care, he wanted more from Heero.

Again rubbing his forehead with both palms Heero wondered if pushing Duo away like this would be worth it in the end. Maybe he would understand? Maybe he wouldn't pull away after knowing? Maybe it  _would_  ruin their friendship? Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe he should just murder Donahue, Batista, and O'Brien, and then he could have kept his seventy-five thousand dollars.

After finishing his paperwork, Heero dragged himself down to the gym to spar with Wufei. Heero ended up hitting the mat more often than not, and by the end of it all, he was irritated with himself for being so distracted.

After showering and changing, the two friends walked side by side to the parking structure.

"Heero," Wufei said. Heero internally groaned knowing Wufei only used first names when he was concerned about something. "What's going on with you?" Wufei's tone wasn't argumentative or demanding, but soft and curious.

"Nothing, why?" Heero asked watching his feet.

"You haven't been yourself lately," the Chinese man stated.

"What do you mean?"

"You're quieter these days, like you used to be," Wufei answered. "You're distracted a lot too. And there are all these rumors flying around about you letting some of your subordinates push you around. And you just seem," Wufei turned his head to look at his Japanese friend whose eyes were locked to the ground. "You seem sad or depressed."

"I'm fine 'Fei, really," Heero tried to sooth, but his voice rang with melancholy.

"Duo told me you shot him down again," Wufei chided lightly. "You know, he's really good at cheering people up, and he's not going to wait around forever."

Heero gruffed, "Why is everyone pushing me to do something about Duo?"

"Because some of us," Wufei reached into the inner breast pocket of his Preventer issued jacket, "want you to be as happy as the rest of us." He pulled out a velvet box, opened it, and showed the diamond ring within.

Heero stopped dead in his tracks. "You're going to ask Sally to marry you?"

Wufei nodded, "But don't tell anyone, you're the only one that knows." He winked.

"Wufei that's great! There's no way she'll say no." A sensation of overwhelming happiness soared through Heero for his close friend. Sure, they may be fairly young to be getting married, but they had lived longer lives than most would have in their circumstances.

"Yeah I know. She's been dropping hints for about six months." Wufei placed the ring back in his pocket. "Call him, Yuy."

The two men separated to find their respected vehicles. Sitting in the driver's seat, Heero contemplated what Wufei had said. He was feeling depressed, stressed, and anxious, but that was all because of Donahue and his little posse.

Pulling out his cell phone, Heero quickly dialed Duo's number on the touch screen. He tapped impatiently on the steering wheel as it rang twice.

"Hello?"

"Hey, um, it's me," Heero mumbled, cracking his neck nervously.

Duo chuckled, "Yeah, I know that. What's up?" Heero could hear a noisy atmosphere in the background.

He was tempted to hang up, but instead asked, "Do you still want to meet up a Daily's tonight?"

"Sure, I'm already there. Alone. Are you just now leaving HQ?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen."

Entering the bar, Heero walked around until he spotted Duo in the back at a table, sitting on a bar stool alone. Taking a deep breath, Heero approached his braided friend slash crush. Duo grinned and his eyes lit up with joy as he saw Heero making his way over.

"Hey, I got you a schooner of Stella," Duo nodded towards the second drink on the table.

Taking the vacant stool, Heero smirked. "Thanks," he replied and took three large gulps.

A chuckle came from the American. "Long day at the office?"

"You could say that," Heero stated, twisting the coaster that his drink sat on top of. He was apprehensive; it had been a long while since he and Duo were alone together, public or private setting aside.

Sensing his friends' discomfort, Duo asked, "You wanna shoot some pool? Free table right there," he offered, nodding his head to right.

"Yeah, let's do that," Heero smirked nervously as he bobbed his head.

The two men played a couple of rounds, drinking plenty of beer along the way. By the end of their third game both were fairly tipsy. The alcohol allowed Heero's reservations to take a back seat. They flirted with witty sarcastic remarks, laughing at each other and themselves. More than once, Duo insisted Heero's "stance" was off, and corrected him by pressing firmly against the Japanese man and adjusting how he was shooting the pool stick. Heero reveled in the sensation of having Duo so close. He was more than half aroused after having Duo melded to his backside. The braided man's hands sliding along his arms and maneuvering his own hands on the stick left a tingling feeling across his skin. Warm breath on the side of his neck tickled his ear, the heat of it increasing his own temperature and pulse. Duo's voice dropped to a low husky rumble as he whispered in Heero's ear, telling him what to do. The last time Duo corrected his posture, Heero felt a definite bulge between two layers of pants. He sucked in a lung full of air quickly; his palms began to sweat as his mouth watered.

The game ended and the two returned to their table. "It's getting a little late," Heero murmured shyly.

"Yeah, hey I didn't drive, so if you could give me a lift as far as your place, I can walk the last four blocks to mine."

Heero offered, "I'll just drive you to your place."

"No, you don't need to drive anymore than you have to. We're probably both over the legal limit," Duo elaborated. "Plus, this way I can walk you to your door," he said with a wink and jumped from the barstool. "Tonight's on me!" The violet-eyed yelled over his shoulder, braid swinging against his butt.

Heero wanted to tell Duo that this wasn't a date, he could pay for his own drinks, and didn't need to be escorted to his apartment door, but at the same time, he wanted all of that. This could be considered his first date, and that it was with Duo made it more exciting and special. But Heero had to be careful and tread lightly. Sitting at the table, finishing off his drink, Heero glanced around at the other bar goers. A group of four around the pool table recently vacated, a man necking on a woman at the bar, two robust women booing at a hockey game as they held hands, three woman exiting the lady's room together laughing.

Staring at the circular blue sign with the symbol of a woman in white as the door swung on its hinges, brought a memory to Heero's mind.

-Flashback-

_There was blood, blood on the tips of his fingers. /...no.../ He ran naked from his room. Running through the shiny, cold, chrome halls, always eerily illuminated with harsh fluorescent bulbs, he found the door he sought. With his clean hand, he pounded on the metal until it swooshed open._

_Thrusting his hand forward at the elderly man, he begged in the midst of panic, "Help me."_

_A claw grasped his bloodied hand by the wrist. "Calm down Test Subject K, it's just..."_

-End Flashback-

"Earth to Heero," a hand waved in front of his face.

"Huh?" Was his intelligent reply.

"Where'd you go in that crazy head of yours?" Duo laughed.

Heero smiled, "Nowhere important. Let's go."

The drive to Heero's apartment was silent, a little awkward for the Japanese man. He wanted Duo to chatter nonstop like he normally would, but his companion stared out the passenger side window, silently. Parking his car in his designated spot, both men climbed out of the vehicle, and true to his word, Duo followed Heero up to the second story of the apartment building to his door.

Twirling his keys on his finger, Heero turned to Duo. "I had a lot of fun tonight."

"Yeah, me too," the violet-eyed man responded rocking on his heels, hands in his back pockets.  _/Just do it, Maxwell./_  Duo berated himself mentally. Oddly, it sounded like Wufei's voice.

"Alright," Heero clapped his hands nervously. "See you Monday." Turning, he inserted the key into the lock, and two strong hands on his shoulders spun him back around and pushed him back against the door.

Duo planted a rough, demanding kiss on Heero's lips, holding the back of his head and a hand to the smaller mans hip to keep him in place. Heero was shocked for a split second, before he gave in and kissed back; like hell if he didn't want this more than anything. Wrapping his unbelievably strong arms around the braided man, Heero pulled him closer and opened his mouth. The kiss became heated as their tongues dueled for dominance, panting and moaning into each other's mouths. Extreme euphoria rang through Heero's spin, this was more intense than he had ever imagined.

Shoving his leg between Heero's, Duo lasciviously ground into him. Heero's blue eyes snapped open, and before he could think, he shoved Duo back and hollered, "Stop!"

Duo stumbled a bit, raised his hands, and gave Heero a confused searching look.

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry," the blue-eyed man stammered. "I like that, really I do. It's just, um it's just..."

"It's fine," Duo soothed. "Really, it's okay."

"I'm really sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Duo laughed timidly. After an awkward moment of silence, he requested, "Can we do this again sometime?"

Heero knew if he distanced himself from Duo now he won't get a chance like this again. He was going to have to find a way to balance all his secrets and keep them hidden. Heero nodded in response to Duo's question.

"Great," Duo blurted nervously. "You won't punch me if I hug now, will you?"

Heero snorted, "No."

The two embraced in a chaste hug. Heero peered over Duo's shoulder at the night's starry sky. He used to be jealous of the height Duo gained after the war out of pure masculine pride, all of them had grown taller, but thanks to his Asian heritage, Heero stopped around five foot ten. The braided man had another four and a half inches on him, making him the second tallest of their click.

The hug was long, awkward but comforting as Duo swayed them gently. "Alright, I'll see you Monday," Duo whispered in his ear. He kissed Heero's temple and left. The Japanese man watched him walk away before entering his apartment. Inside a grin blossomed on his face.

-Monday-

"I want you all to disassemble, clean, and then reassemble your weapon as fast as possible," Lieutenant Yuy ordered his class. They all quickly obeyed competitively to be the first ones done. Donahue, Batista, and O'Brien were the last ones to finish.

"Your timing is pathetic," Heero scolded the three men. They glared back at him, furious that he was embarrassing and singling them out. Turning to address the whole class of sixteen men and women, Heero stated, "You need to know your weapon inside and out. In the field you have to be able to reload without even looking at your weapon. If it jams, you must know how to fix it! You will have the lives of other people in your hands," Heero glared at the three seething men. "If you can't do this efficiently, you don't deserve to be Special Agents."

Smug smirks and snickering came from the rest of the class. They were glad to see their Lieutenant patronize the three men who were becoming increasingly obnoxious and disrespectful with each passing week. The rookies were dismissed and sent home with paperwork to fill out on Heero's behalf; he had plenty more to do himself. It felt good to put those three down for once, instead of turning the other cheek. Heero was in better spirits for the rest of the work day.

At five o'clock, Duo knocked on his door. "Oi, it's quittin' time. Shut down your computer, let's bail."

Heero smiled and complied with Duo's request. Leaving together, they rode the elevator down in silence, smirking from the joy of simply being around each other. They bumped and nudged each other playfully as they walked to the parking garage. Duo was going to attempt to steal a kiss when he spotted Heero's car.

"Hey, you've got a flat," he stated.

Heero looked over his shoulder. "God damn it," he hissed.

"No worries, you got a spare right? I'll help you change it."

Heero pulled the spare and the jack from the trunk of his car. Duo placed the jack on the supporting beam and pumped it to lift the car. Using the cross wrench, Heero unbolted the flat back tire.

"This has been cut with a knife," Duo observed, inspecting the slice in the tires tread. Heero grunted noncommittally and placed the spare on the hub. Duo tightened the bolts back on while Heero tossed the damaged tire in the trunk.

After completing the task, Heero walked irritably to the drivers' door. "Fuck!"

"What's wrong?" Duo asked as he came around. 'Fraud' was craved into the black paint on the drivers' side door. "Woah, alright. We need to go check out the security footage and see who the hell did this."

"No, I think I know who did this. Let me handle it," Heero argued.

"Why not just check the footage to know for sure?" inquired Duo.

"Just leave to me, okay?" Heero got into his car, started it and pulled it in reverse. Just before driving off, he thanked Duo for his help through his cracked window, but Duo wasn't about to let the matter drop. Pissed off, he went stalked back into HQ.

-Tuesday-

Duo intercepted Heero as he marched to his office. "Hey, I found out who fucked with your car," he informed.

"I told you to leave it to me," Heero ground out through gritted teeth.

Rolling his eyes Duo admitted, "I thought you might like a little help. It was Manuel Batista, one of your guys. You need to dismiss this fucker."

"Duo!" Heero snapped. "Just leave it the fuck alone!"

"Hey, I'm just tryin' to help you!" Duo defended, poking Heero in the center of his chest. "Rumors are flyin, sayin' you're goin' soft on your guys!"

"Fuck the rumors," Heero growled, smacked the violet-eyed mans hand away and stormed off to his office. "And I didn't ask for your fucking help!" The Japanese man yelled over his shoulder.

Stalking to his own office, Duo fumed internally. All he wanted to do was help. Apparently he had overstepped some unfamiliar boundary. Slamming his door shut, the braided man paced back and forth with his hands fisted on his hips. Over the past month Heero's attitude fluctuated all over the emotional spectrum. Typically he was calm and collected and all these inconsistencies brought back that instant message chat they had a while back. A dying man would go through the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Heero's short fuse seemed to indicate stage two. The idea of the blue-eyed man perishing made despondency and fear dig their evil claws into his heart. He had already lost so many loved ones through his young tortured, war-ridden life, and the notion of loosing someone he was in love with seemed too much to bear. Love conquered the fear as Duo came to the decision that if Heero were truly dying, he would stick by his side for as long as possible.

-Later-

Heero cornered Batista outside the cafeteria. "Don't fuck with my shit  _Agent_!" he sneered.

"Then you better watch how you treat us, freak. Or we'll blow the lid on your little secret. How would you feel if everyone knew you're a -"

"Shut up!" Heero hissed. "Just back off."

Batista raised his chin and scowled down at his Lieutenant, "Or what?"

Heero tried to think of some kind of threat, something to make the three of them back off, but he had nothing. "I thought so," Batista smirked. "You're the one who has to play it cool, so I suggest you watch your mouth and not fuck with us again, or things will get worse." He passed Heero, bumping his shoulder roughly against his Lieutenants, disappearing into the cafeteria.

/ _Why did this have to happen now? When everything's almost complete and done._ / Heero questioned. All this intolerance was completely knew to the Japanese man.

-Flashback-

_"Alright kid, you pretend to be my son and I'll teach ya everything I know." The man smiled and reached out his hand._

_The small child grasped the mans' fingers. "Now lets get you some new clothes and a hair cut," the man chuckled. "No one will believe you're my son looking like that."_

-End Flashback-

Later in the workday, Duo found Heero in his office and entered without knocking.

"Look," he stated defensively, barging in with his arms flailing in the air. "I know you didn't ask for my help, and maybe I over stepped my boundaries on telling you how to deal with the people under your command, but I really was just trying to help you out. I mean, the guy fuckin' slashed your tire and keyed your car."

"I know," Heero replied softly, massaging the space between his eyebrows. "But please, in the future, just let me deal with shit like this. It's my problem, not yours."

Even to Duo, Heero's anguish was a tangible thing in the air. Desperately, he wanted to ask what was going on, he knew he was being left in the dark about something and Duo's mind ran amuck thinking of the worst scenario. Unfortunately, forcing Heero to talk about whatever it was would be similar to asking a rock to speak.

-Flashback-

_"You should never tell a lie, Duo," Sister Helen scolded softly, catching the young boy in a fib._

_Duo protested with his arms crossed over his chest, hugging himself, "I didn't want to make you mad."_

_"I know, but lies and secrets can only bring pain," the Nun asserted._

_"What kind of pain?"_

_"They hurt people's feelings," she explained, "and secrets will make you feel alone and isolated."_

-End Flashback-

Duo nodded his head glumly, "Alright, later then."

-April 28th AC 201-

Heero and Duo had to put their slowly budding relationship on hold. Lieutenant Yuy had been assigned a four-week mission in Tokyo, Japan that would test his students' abilities in the field. They were given one month's time to infiltrate a small prostitution ring and bring the men in charge of the sex slavery to justice. Everything had gone according to plan until the take down. Four civilians had been injured and one later died of a gunshot wound. This lapse in protocol and safety was at the fault of Heero's three worst men. In the confusion of arresting the men in charge of the whorehouse and chasing down the ones who tried to break free, the prostitutes and the men enjoying their company all went running and screaming, adding to the chaos. O'Brien shot two johns who had tried to escape. Bastia and Donahue made the same mistake, and the man Donahue wounded would be the one who died later on.

Understandably, Heero laid into the three men and suspended them. Usually, he would have fired anyone for this kind of fuck up, but he couldn't terminate these men. He was going to have to write his report on what had happened and would have to deal with Une going ballistic on him. Heero had never had a mission go this bad under his watch. Feeling embarrassed and ashamed, he began the arduous task of typing out his report.

-Monday-

"Well," Commander Une slammed Heero's typed report down on her mahogany desk with a loud  _thunk_. "Care to enlighten me on how the hell this happened?"

Heero visibly tensed standing in front of his Commanders' desk, hands clasped at the wrist behind his back, feet shoulders width apart. "There was a lot of commotion-" he tried to explain.

Une interjected, "Commotion, Yuy? Don't give me that load of bullshit! What this is, is a serious fuck up. From what I've heard, you've been giving preferential treatment to some of your men, particularly the three men," Une shuffled through Heero's report, "Agents Manuel Batista, Paul Donahue, and Tristan O'Brien, who are also the men that screwed you over. Imagine that." She raised her brown eyebrows and glared at one of her best and brightest Lieutenants. Heero was in fact  _the_  best, but the people under his charge have been slipping. Une had no idea why this was happening and it made her furious and highly suspicious. How could Heero goddamn Yuy let this happen?

"I do not give anyone preferent-"

"I would like to believe that, Heero," Une interrupted again. "So, I'll ask you this, why haven't you dismissed them?"

"I see potential in these men and would like to give them a second chance," Heero lied. If he fired them now, they would expose him. Donahue made that very clear just after Heero suspended them.

Une smacked her thin hands on the desk. "This is what I'm talking about! You don't  _give_  second chances, and I'm starting to think your judgment on these men is way off. I'm even beginning to question if maybe you need to take sometime off. Do you still feel like you're cut out for this job?"

Heero glared daggers at his Commander. "Of course," he growled out between gritted teeth, "I'm still cut out for this damned job."

Crossing her arms over her chest, leaning back in her sleek office chair, Une sighed dramatically. "Your command is known for a certain standard of ability. If you want to give these men another chance, fine. I just don't want to see your reputation around here take a nose dive." Pointing a finger at him, she demanded, "Retrain them at once."

-Flashback-

_Test Subject K sat on the floor with his ear pressed to a hard, cold chrome door, listening intently to the scientist on the other side discuss him._

_"Test Subject K is progressing and learning faster than the rest," the muffled, disembodied voice of Doctor J defended._

_Another voice, female, retorted, "Test Subject K will be difficult to maintain. I don't think we should place a person like this into the battlefield. K will need a great deal of medical attention through this transformation. There will be many problems to arise with h-"_

_"He shows a strong sense of loyalty to our mission – to Operation Meteor – and has great instincts on how to handle strenuous circumstances. He will complete any and all objectives," Doctor J justified._

_A different male voice responded, "Test Subject K exhibits too much value on human life, which in a normal person would be a commendable trait, but for the soldiers we are trying to create makes him weak."_

_A third unknown voice added, "We either retrain Test Subject K or terminate him."_

_"Test Subject K is not ma-" the female voice tried to make a statement, but was interrupted again by Doctor J._

_"Fine, we retrain him." The old scientist didn't sound happy about it, but it was his only option._

-End Flashback-

"Consider it done," Heero stated, dismayed at the idea of being in the same building as his three nemeses.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes when we think we are keeping a secret, that secret is actually keeping us," - Anonymous

Chapter 2

While Heero was gone on his low level mission with his rookies, Duo’s inquisitive nature got the better of him, which led the braided man to dive into a search of Heero’s past. Ineffectually, he had tried to wait patiently for the Japanese man to open up, but it was taking too long and his worrisome mind refused to yield. They’d been dating for two months now, and things were progressing at a snails pace – it didn’t help that the second month of their new relationship involved Heero being deployed to Tokyo. At least with the mission being a routine assignment they were able to stay in regular contact with each other via e-mail.

The painstakingly slow development of their romance wasn’t strictly Heero’s fault. Work was another huge factor that kept them apart. Teaching prospective Field Agents necessary skills, taking them out on assignments, getting the entirety of class back safe and alive sliced a big chunk of time out of all the former Gundam pilots’ personal time. All the career responsibilities seemed to force Duo and Heero to take two strides backwards after finally taking one step forward. For every fist-sized hunk of ice he chipped away from Heero’s exterior, work got in the way, only allowing them to have one date per week – if they were lucky – and by their next intimate meeting some of that frost had grown back.

In addition to all the work interference, Duo couldn’t help but notice the little things that Heero did that indicated to him as health issues. The blue-eyed man was continuously complaining of migraines, fatigue, and a diminishing appetite. His typically steady emotions swung to and fro from content to irritable, shyly flirtatious to unapproachable. The additive collection of these issues affected Heero’s appearance; dark circles under his eyes, the pallor of his face made him seem frail, the constant stubble on his chin and unkempt work uniform indicated small instances of self-neglect. If Duo hadn’t come across that stupid article in the first place, he’d chalk up all of Heero’s minor health concerns as a byproduct of stress, but his suspicious mind deviated down dark paths.

The sex was another thing, or the lack there of. Two months in and they hadn’t gone far. Duo knew shoving Heero towards the bedroom would backlash on him. Yeah, they were lucky to get one date night out of the week, blessed for two, but the braided man felt as if they were playing the push and pull game that nervous high school virgins dabbled in. After each private dinner, after each lingering kiss, after each suggestive touch Duo could feel Heero becoming a more tangible person in ways he had only dared to dream of. He craved the physical intimacy to progress equally to the slow moving emotional, but that aspect was at an utter standstill. It was like someone had willingly handed over an ice cream cone to a child with a fat dollop of his favorite flavor atop that waffle cone, and then that child was told he could have one single, solitary lick and had to tuck it away in the freezer until the next weekend. Waiting was something he tried to do patiently because deep down in his own delicate heart, he knew it would be worth it in the long run. But all the complications weighed heavily on his mind. And he needed answers. Rebuts that would lay his worst fears to rest and satisfy his ballooning curiosity. Duo naively thought that if he secured some answers then he would be able to help Heero, find a way to prevent his death, or at least slow the progression of it.

And so with Heero gone for a month on a training mission, Duo decided he couldn’t wait for the man to lay his nightmares to rest, and took the first steps into uncovering the ambiguous mans past.

The questions began with that article Duo stumbled across before their first date, and his search commenced with him tracking down the other L1 natives who’d been subjected to the same program as Heero. These were the same individuals who’d been genetically spliced and were dropping like flies at an alarming pace. Through all the advanced avenues available to him, the violet-eyed man tracked down eight people whom had divulged to their doctors about the treatment they had received at the hands of a certain group of scientist. These individuals caught the attention of a brilliantly sharp reporter who’d placed the questioning puzzle pieces together. The article and the persons it was pertaining to never made front-page news – no one cared enough, but one person in particular did. And he had all the necessary technology to track them down. On down time – also known as: not sent on assignment – Duo used his office hours to seek out the nearest ailing persons of eight, and found that the closest living person was a short flight away in St. Petersburg, Russia.

Contacting these people via telephone or e-mail was not an option. They were all hospitalized, lying in wait on their deathbeds. Additionally, if he could witness the triage of the illness, he might come up with some kind of solution or at least know the major warning signs and how Heero might deteriorate. So on the second weekend of Heero’s absence, Duo flew to the long forgotten Soviet Nation, located the hospital where his intended target was receiving treatment, and snuck in undetected.

Ezra Sesay’s kidneys began to fail months ago, followed by liver failure, which caused his dark skin to jaundice, fluid built up in his lungs, decreasing brain functions, and now he had a troubling heart murmur. His health was failing fast, and no one wanted to tell their life’s stories more than a dying man. Duo held an advantage, and he knew it.  

Sneaking into the hospital room on soft steps, Duo was relieved that Mr. Sesay had his own private accommodations. Seating himself gently in the only vacant chair in the room, Duo waited patiently – chewing on nails – for Ezra to awake from his slumber.

Thirty silent, long minutes passed and finally Ezra’s eyelids fluttered open, wandered lazily around the room before settling on the silhouetted stranger in his room.

“Who are you?” Ezra asked in a groggy voice, brown eyes squinting unsuccessfully in attempt to be threatening.

Inhaling a calm deep breath, Duo answered, “It doesn’t matter who I am, but why I’m here.”

A dark eyebrow lifted high above a tired, questioning eye. “Okay. I revise my question: Why are you here?”

“Do you know this man?” the braided man asked, producing a wallet-sized photo of Heero.

Ezra Sesay clutched the photo in his delicate fingers, gazed at it intensely, eyes twitching in recognition.

“So you know him,” Duo stated boldly. “Tell me everything you remember about him.”

“It’s not much,” Ezra admitted while glaring at the photo. “He was one of us, maybe.”

“Maybe?” Duo echoed.

“I take it that you know about some of us L1 orphans being adopted by psycho’s, and pumped full of toxins that purposefully made us into war machines, but you don’t seem to know the other half of that story.”

“Please,” Duo asked diplomatically, keeping his true emotions under wraps. “Enlighten me.”

“This man,” Ezra started, shaking the pocketsize photo between his fingers. “I recognize him, but I don’t know which group he was apart of.”

Fully intrigued, Duo again echoed a single word, “Group?”

“Yes, group. There were the test subjects, like myself, and the other group.”

“What was the other group?”

“I can’t say for sure, but the rumor was that they were humanoid droids.”

Duo was silent for a moment, thinking and pondering what that term meant. “Droids?”

“Androids,” Ezra elaborated. “I could never the tell difference between them and us, and from the rumors they…became more human than they were supposed to be.”

“How so?” Duo asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“I’m not sure,” Ezra sighed. “Like I said, they’re robots in disguise. This picture you’ve shown me, I recognize him but I don’t know which group he was. There was a lot of us in the mix, from Subject A to Subject A1, the names they gave us were insignificant and meaningless. It was easier that way for them.”

“Easier how?”

“Easier for them to terminate us when we fell short.”

Duo left with more questions than answers. Ezra didn’t know Heero personally from his time know as ‘Test Subject C’, couldn’t differentiate the T.S’s from the Droids – or even if these life-like human robots existed in the first place. It was all speculation and the existence of full functioning androids seemed like something out of a science fiction movie, too unbelievable to be real. One thing Ezra did give that could prove to be a helpful clue was that Test Subject N – Nadia McKenna – might have more answers for him.

Duo prayed this lead would provide him with more insight, but she was fading faster than Ezra in hospital on the L3 cluster.

-Monday Night-

Heero sat on his couch nursing his third beer in his silent apartment. His conversation with Une had set him on edge, made him brood over the consequences that shouldn’t be resting on his shoulders. He was contemplating firing Donahue, Batista, and O'Brien, and letting his secret come out in the open. Fear was his biggest enemy. Cringing, Heero belittled himself for being so pathetically vulnerable to the emotion called _fear_ as much as the next person. But that’s one of the many things that made him _human_ , the susceptibility to untouchable things such as fear or love. One wasn’t living if he or she never felt an ounce of love or terrifying dread. Many times in the past he’d feared for his life and squelched that instinct due to his circumstances and for the sake of the mission, but now he was granted with the freedom of choosing his own path. Without the war or a do-or-die cause, he was free to live on his own accord. Was it wrong that he desired to protect his secrets and new life wishes? Was it wrong that he was afraid of people treating him differently, rejection, harassment, and discrimination? Above all else, he feared how it would change his personal relationships with the other pilots and Relena, especially Duo. If he could keep it a secret until September, then it would be a thing of the past, and he could take it to the grave with him, bury it six feet under soil, worms, and tree roots.

Dealing with this kind of anxiety was so foreign. The Japanese man never felt so vulnerable or less of man. Heero fantasized different scenarios of homicide in order to occupy his semi-drunk mind from the reveries of revealing the ugly truth. He could kill his rivals with his bare hands; sneak into their homes and snuff their lives out one by one. And no one would ever be the wiser. Something about that idea didn’t sit well in the pit of his stomach. If he did that then he was no better than the common murderer. It simply didn’t click with his moral compass.

His prior searches into their past yielded nothing that could amount to what they had on him. They were soldiers in training when the Eves war finally ended, and Batista had been a desk jockey. Parking tickets, a DUI or two, a fine for public urination, vandalism, and public intoxication while under the legal age was all he gathered from their collective criminal records. Anything more serious and none of them would have been accepted into the Special Agent program in the first place. If he could figure out a way to intimidate the shit out them that would be better, but there didn’t seem to be a plausible route up that specific avenue that wouldn’t backfire and blow up in his face.

Terrorizing them would most likely push the three to go over his head and tell Une. If she found out it would become part of his public file – the one disclosing his status as a Gundam pilot was buried. None of the Gundam pilots were allowed to expose their wartime careers for their own protection. So, clearly, telling Donahue, Batista, and O’Brien whom exactly it was they were dealing with was out of the question because then everyone would know, which would bring up a lot of other unwanted issues and resentment. The Gundams were a small group of five, and ninety percent of the Preventer Agents were former enemy soldiers, so divulging his wartime status would bring about harassment of an entirely different variety. It seemed his only option was to sit back and wait; good things come to those who are patient, right?

Once he passed them and they became Special Agents, they would no longer be his problem, there would be nothing left to gain from dangling his predicament over his head, except for more possible monetary extortion.

And he would only defend himself with violence if they acted violently towards him.

On another note, it made him kind of darkly giddy in his mild alcoholic fuzz to think that if they didn’t take their training seriously, took all the short cuts they could get just to achieve status, they would surely fail in the field and possibly perish from pathetic mistakes. It was dumb idea to “fly-by” for this sort of career, but if they wanted that route, than Heero surely wasn’t going to deny them the right. But still, it irked him to know he was being bullied into submission from them. All Heero had ever known about “bullies” was that they were mean spirited children that picked on weaker children. Apparently someone forgot to mention that one could come across a bully off the playground and well into adulthood.  

A knock at Heero's front door had him up and wondering who the hell would stop by at ten o'clock on a Monday night. Gazing through the peephole, he spied Duo Maxwell on the other side of the door. Heero rested his forehead against the door, eyes pinched closed, brows furrowed, and a self-pity frown in place. So forlorn he wished his love interest away, but the world-wise American was not so easily discharged.

"Come on, 'Ro," Duo teased. "I know you're right there. Bein’ a grand stealth master also means I know when other people are tryin’ to sneak about. Now open the door."

Pulling the door open, Heero leaned against it and asked, "Did you really hear me?"

"I've always been better at stealth than you and always will be," Duo answered with a cheeky smirk, bypassing Heero into the apartment.

The Japanese man mumbled under his breath, "That wasn't really an answer."

Closing the door, Heero followed Duo into kitchen and watched with a bemused expression as the braided man helped himself to a beer from the fridge, popped the cap of the bottle with his teeth like a frat boy attempting to impress a drunken sorority girl.

Silence fell between the two men as they sipped their drinks leisurely.

"Care to tell me what you're doing here?" implored Heero.

Duo shrugged. "It was either I come over or the whole gang. I figured you wouldn't appreciate havin’ everyone over to check up on you, mother-henning your ass and all."

Rolling his dark Prussian eyes, Heero admitted, "Yeah that would just piss me off more."

"Plus, there are things I wanna do with ya that the others don't to be here for," added Duo with a saucy wink. A heavy blush graced Heero's cheeks as he took a long gulp from his long bottle necked beer, causing Duo chuckle. "So, you wanna talk about the training mission?" he asked.

Heero shook his head. "No, anything but that. Please."

"Well I'm glad to see those bastards are gone. Especially that Batista piece of shit for what he did to your car – "

Heero cut in, "I didn't fire them."

Duo gaped at the Japanese man. "Excuse me? You didn't fire them? Why?!" His violet eyes expanding, becoming more rounded in their astonishment.

"Because…because they…know…" Heero's elusive statement drifted off quietly as he searched Duo's violet concerned eyes for something, for the strength to tell him.

Witnessing the alarm in those deep blue orbs, Duo asked, "Because they know, what?" He explored Heero's eyes in return, seeking an answer all the while feeling apprehensive of the one he might receive.

The air became increasingly thick, heavier with each passing second. Heero desperately wanted to just say it, reveal himself completely, live without the deceptions and undisclosed truths. He could trust Duo to not cut him off completely, right? The man may not want to "be with" him anymore, and maybe it wouldn't be too terrible to be rejected in that way. But Heero couldn't handle it if Duo reacted horribly and severed their friendship entirely. The former Deathscythe pilot may be his love interest, but he also had the biggest mouth in the bunch. If he were downright disgusted by the honesty and told the others, Heero would be left with no one. Heero had an exceptionally strong bond with Relena – the woman he swore to protect for the rest of his life – and Chang Wufei, but could the friendships withstand the weight of the truth?

To some who were close but not close enough, the bond between Heero and Wufei might appear as arbitrary or dubious. They were so similar in manner but held wildly different beliefs that many would think the two would never agree on much of anything or get along famously. Their similarities – blunt hard honesty, expectation to give and receive equal respect, the reserved natures they both shared which they didn’t push the boundaries of unless for necessary reason, a mirror image of proper decorum, and an general reluctance to dig in to the past – out weighed their differing opinions on philosophical opinions of medicine, religion, and universal life goals. They were one side of the same coin, which is why they made such great friends. Duo and he were opposing sides, opposite in every sense of the word that led to both of them extracting the best and worst facets of each other.

Violet orbs flickered softly back and forth, seeking desperately to find an answer to all his questions.

-FlashBack-

_Turning off the water, Heero basked in the misty warmth of the shower stall. Running his hands through his freshly showered hair, the blue-eyed man pushed his bangs back out of his face and slicked them down against his scalp. The curtain separating him from his towel and clothing opened with a harsh yank._

_"..what the.." Agent Donahue's face pinched in confusion. A split second passed and his eyes widen, his mouth opened in shock. "...Holy shit..."_

-End Flashback-

Duo could physically feel Heero's inner turmoil waft off him in great waves as his eyes spoke untold volumes of pain. The Japanese man closed his blue eyes slowly and when they reopened that old mask of apathy came up and all emotion in the air disappeared, sucked out by a vacuum dubbed ‘ Pure Human Will’.

"Nothing," Heero answered. "I just see a lot of great possibilities with these men if I can kick them into high gear," He lied. Again.

It was a lie, but Duo couldn't tell if Heero's statement was deceitful or an avoidance tactic. Duo nodded his head despondently, deciding not to push the matter. If Heero was going to such great lengths to fib about the circumstances it could only mean that he really didn’t want him to know, or that it was truly nothing worth worrying over, or so Duo thought.

"Une chew you out?" Duo asked, changing the subject.

Heero nodded.

"You wanna make out on the couch instead of talkin' 'bout all this shit?" Duo asked laughing uncertainly; he desperately wanted to remove that blank mask adorned on Heero's face. Again Heero nodded, this time eagerly with a smirk, blue eyes flickering back to life with an electrifying glimmer.

Duo stalked briskly around the faux granite kitchen island, clutched Heero’s chin and welded their mouths together. The braided mans knees instantly became weak. This is what he had been wanting the entire time Heero had been gone, and what he desired since he passed the threshold into the apartment. The hand on Heero’s chin roamed into his thick mane of chocolate hair while the other pressed firmly against the small of his back, tips mutedly grazing over the mound of flesh that created his buttocks. Heero responded to the embrace by wrapping both arms around the violet eyed mans chest, pulling Duo closer and returning the kiss feverishly.

Connected at the face, the two men stumbled blindly to the couch, groping and gasping along the way. The backs of Duo's calves connected with the leather couch, and he allowed Heero to facetiously shove him down onto the cushioned surface, bouncing lightly as he landed.

Lying over the chuckling man, Heero twisted Duo's braid around his hand; the other wrapped his legs around the narrow waist of the one on top. Their tongues intertwined, danced, pulling and pushing saliva, soft lips caressing, sharp inhales during brief partings, exchanged moans, heated temperatures creating minute perspiration, and grinding hips all added to the extreme intensity of their intimate actions. Keeping one hand pawing at Heero's ass, Duo fisted his other hand into the back of Heero's shirt, bunching the cotton material, massaging the taut muscled flesh beneath. In return, Heero yanked playfully on the rope of hair bound around his wrist, fisted in his grasp.

Trailing his mouth down Duo's jaw, Heero nipped and licked the flesh, savoring the flavor of the man beneath him. Duo groaned loudly, fingernails digging into the blue-eyed man's jean clad ass, rocking his waist upwards to achieve more pleasurable friction.

"Take off your shirt," Duo demanded upon a breathy whisper, tugging the hem of Heero's olive-green work shirt out of the blue jeans.

Sitting up on his knees, Heero deftly undid the buttons and wrenched the fabric off his shoulders. Duo pushed himself up and latched his mouth onto Heero's pectoral and teethed a nipple. Harshly.

"Fuck!" Heero swore as Duo sank his teeth into his skin.

"Too rough for you?" Duo chuckled, dragging his bottom lip over the abused area, exhaling hot breath to add further teasing.

"No," Heero harped, yanked his shirt off his wrists, staring at the parted lips that were hovering over his taut nipple. "What are you, some kind of vampire?"

Huffing out a laugh, Duo flicked his pink tongue out, tracing the dusky areola. "Mmm, more like a sadist, but you can take a little pain, can't chu?"

Heero grunted.

"That's what I thought," Duo chuckled, again nipping the pinkish brown nipple savagely.

Lying back down, Duo ran his short nails down Heero's torso, causing the skin to redden and lift from his markings that ended at the top of his jeans.

"God, you're fuckin ripped," he mumbled, marveling at the tight muscles that created the body of Heero Yuy.

Shifting his legs to wrap underneath Heero's armpits, Duo laced his ankles behind his shoulder blades and yanked the Japanese man down with the force of his tough thighs. An "umph" escaped the blue-eyed man as he landed against Duo's clothed chest.

They laughed together.

Their make out session continued with teasing bites, playful scratches, fevered gasps, experimental hair pulling, and grinding hips. Heero almost didn't notice Duos' hand trying to slip into the front his jeans for the braided devil had his earlobe between his sinful lips, and a hand curled in his dark hair. Almost didn't notice.

-Flashback-

_Heero lay limp and bruised in a holding cell, waiting for someone to come and question him. The door swooshed open and in stepped two guards and their General. Nothing would work against the trained young man, not the threats, not the punches or kicks. By the end of the third vicious beating, the General wasn’t happy; this boy wouldn’t talk. He decided to try a more extreme route._

_“Undress him,” he ordered his men._

_No expression dawned the boys face; no plead for mercy, no fear in his eyes. The young captured Gundam pilot wouldn’t allow these Oz scum to witness his terror while the guards ripped the clothes from his body._

_The General grinned depravedly at the nude youth. “Well, this just got more interesting.”_

-End Flashback-

 Pulling back quickly, Heero barked, "Don't!" And smacked the braided man’s hand away.

"I was just-"

"I know what you were doing," Heero babbled nervously. "Just don't do that."

Duo gazed up at the man above him, puzzled. "Okay," he drawled, and pushed down his own bunched up black cotton shirt.

The heated air dissipated quickly, leaving Heero to feel ashamed at his outburst. Duo shifted and stood up, mystified by Heero's drastic mood change.

"Um, I'm gonna head home," he mumbled, gazing down at Heero who was still seated on the couch, picking at invisible lint off his jeans, his muscled chest and abdomen heaving with uneven breaths. He didn't look up, just nodded his head glumly.

Lifting his blue eyes off the floor, Heero watched Duo disappear through the front door.

Duo didn't want to leave, but the unfounded eruption made their situation cumbersome, and he didn't know how to handle it. Leaving was his best option because if he chose to stay he’d end up asking more questions that wouldn’t be answered.

-May 8th AC 201-

"Today, I want you to show me your best hand to hand combat skills. I don't think _any_ of you have proven to me that you're capable of fighting and protecting yourselves without a weapon," Lieutenant Yuy chastised his group.

Pairing the men and women off, he watched as they battled in hand-to-hand combat with each other on padded blue mats in the gym. He was pleasantly surprised to see some of his female trainees take down the men they were partnered up with. He smirked smugly knowing his harsh training on the women had positive consequences.

Breaking through the social barriers of male and female gender roles in combat is one of the first, and hardest concepts for the newbies to learn. Women have to be strong enough to fight sufficiently against any man who may attack them in the field. In return, the men had to learn not underestimate the women, for some of the women they would face in the field were ruthless, conniving, and far more dangerous than their outward appearance or gender would show. Commander Une was a great example of this, which he used often referring back to her time as _Lady_ Une. Though she was sanctioned as having Dissociative Identity Disorder as the root of her sadistic nature, and was currently medicated for it, Military Une would surface occasionally when enraged enough. Heero found it quite amusing to see _The_ _Lady_ make a come back, as long as _The Lady's_ attention wasn't focused on him.

Pacing between the groups, Heero noted that Donahue was one of the best hand-to-hand combatants, though he would have liked to see the man get tossed down, at least he excelled at something. Batista on the other hand could barely keep himself off the mat for two minutes. The Slavic woman he was paired up with was a behemoth of a woman. Tall, wide, square-jawed like a man, she even made her Lieutenant a little unnerved with her diligent, piercing eyes. But Heero appreciated that in a woman, despite being a gay man.

Ending the session, Heero instructed Batista to stay on the padded mat. He was going to make an example out of the low life. Their Lieutenant pointed out every flaw the Agent made as he continued to make an example of Batista. Manuel was not happy with his Lieutenant for choosing him; he felt like a fool. The angrier he got, the more his faulty technique got him landing violently on the mat with the air forced painfully out of his lungs. Heero used this opportunity to deal vicious blows and hard kicks to the Hispanic man. The Japanese man could have easily injured, even "accidentally" killed Batista with the strength he harnessed in his overly trained altered body, but he didn't – even though he really wanted to. By the end, the group of students was snickering at Batista's lack of skill, and said man was relieved sorely from dueling with his superior.

O'Brien and Donahue were far from pleased at seeing their ally humiliated in front of everyone by the hands of their detested Lieutenant. Already scheming, Donahue pledged to find a way to get even with Heero.

Some way, he would pay.

-May 10th AC 201-

"There's a small terrorist group called the Vazov Family in the L4 sector. They have weak ties to the Russian Mafia, and they have infiltrated many important businesses, including Winner Enterprise Incorporated. They use their positions and influences to smuggle drugs, trade illegal weapons, and launder money. I want you three on this mission," Commander Une delegated to the three men seated in her office.

Heero had been waiting for this, a chance to get away, take a mission that would ultimately leave his recruits in the hands of someone else for the time being. Finally, a mission that required one ounce of his specific skill set and allowed him the chance to escape for the briefest amount of time.

Lieutenant Maxwell was little less enthusiastic. His particular group of students was the best he had seen yet and didn't want to leave, and he only had a small role in the entirety mission. Although, being partnered with Heero on any distant assignment was a major plus in his book. The awkward ending of their latest hook up two weeks ago was a thing of the past. Duo was quickly learning that Heero was fine with doing anything that involved keeping their pants on, for whatever reason he didn't know. What he did know was that he was Heero's first intimate relationship, though they had no defined lines for what they were, he was okay with "going slow" in the face of that persisting voice that told him their time was limited. Sure, he wanted to strip the blue-eyed man down and take him to bed, fuck him, be fucked by him, but the former Deathscythe pilot wanted much more than just sex. If time were needed for Heero to be comfortable with sexual closeness, then he would give it…grudgingly.

The third man in the room, Quatre Raberba Winner, was fine with going on a mission with his two friends. He was rarely requested to go anywhere by Une because he had his father's business to look over, but most of the responsibilities fell to his sisters. Quatre was not a businessman by far. The soldier in him needed the challenge that running a multi-billion dollar industry just didn't provide. Though he didn’t hold the title of Field Agent, Quatre was a top of the line tactical analyst, critically minded on how to complete a mission successfully by using his own skill set and that of others. A born leader with the diplomacy of relinquishing his leadership over to Heero when need be. The two were fairly level in the management department, but Quatre harbored a sensitivity that Heero sometimes lacked. They balanced each other greatly. The only thing Quatre had to worry about for completing this mission was his boyfriend – Trowa.

Their own intimate relationship hadn’t started until they were eighteen. Many hurdles prevented them from seeking each other out for a long while. Quatre had to figure out what he really wanted to do in life, and Trowa fought his reclusive and distrustful nature. On the two-year anniversary of the Eve’s War, the blond had drunkenly professed his unyielding affection and Trowa’s resolve melted away. The green-eyed man knew his boyfriend was more than capable of holding his own through more onerous missions, he just didn't like not being a part of the back up team, but this was to be a fairly simple reconnaissance mission.

"We'll do it," Heero stated firmly for the three of them.

-The Next Day-

As Heero packed his necessary belongings for the mission in HQ’s locker room, he witnessed Quatre's and Trowa's farewell exchange.

"Be safe," Trowa pleaded quietly.

The blond man’s lips tugged in a smile, eyes soft and understanding. "I will, don't worry."

"I love you," Trowa murmured, his lips hovering millimeters from his lovers.

"I love you too," Quatre whispered, connecting his mouth with Trowa’s.

A sensual kiss lasted longer than Heero would have liked. He felt as if he were intruding upon an intimate moment that he shouldn't be privy to.

Pulling away from the kiss, Quatre felt Heero’s discomfort and restrained from pulling his boyfriend down by the neck for another tender smooch. His Space Heart told him Heero wasn't just uncomfortable, but that there was a twinge of jealousy seated behind the barrier and in the depths of the blue-eyed man’s heart. Where this envy came from, the blond-haired man didn't know. He knew Heero didn't have hidden feelings for himself or Trowa; maybe he wished to be that open with a certain mischievous braided devil.

Receiving the sympatric glance from his blond friend, Heero quenched his mind and heart. He knew Quatre could feed off the subdued emotions from those around him, and he didn't want the former Sandrock pilot reaching too deep into him.

Over the years surpassing the war, the billionaire heir honed his gift. Nowadays, if he was allowed to touch a troubled person, he could visually see their memories; their turmoil, their reasons for being the way they are. Quatre helped Trowa open up, accept the love he desired to give and receive. He helped Wufei forgive himself for not saving his colony, for not being "as strong as he needed to be", for accepting his own shortcomings. Quatre helped Duo tame his inner demon, Shinigami. Through the war the alter ego, "The God of Death", had been his surviving line, Duo's will to fight. After the war, that dark side attempted relentlessly to consume their lovable friend. Quatre aided Duo’s acceptance that he would never be without that dark side of himself, and that he could also be so much more. Duo could go on and find redemption when he needed it; continue and find that inner peace which would allow him to _not_ feel like a monster. Conquer the evil being within, accept the love of others, find faith in the religion he once lost long, long ago. Duo almost felt like that "Death" side of him was gone for good. Only when faced with something of extreme importance would the demon arise, take hold of his soul, which rarely happened nowadays. Shinigami would always show himself when one of his loved ones was threatened greatly. Heero was Quatre's only friend who hadn't experienced the new power of his Space Heart.

There was no way in hell or heaven Heero would open up to Quatre like that. He didn't want his friend knowing his life's greatest secrets. Of course, he didn't want anyone cognizant to that, but Donahue, that fucking piece of rancid scum, found out. Actually, before he had discovered his secret, Donahue and he had no problems, an easy relationship between superior and subordinate. If anything, the Agents reaction was all the ammo Heero needed to never think of trusting someone with what he was.

Quatre watched Heero slam his locker loudly and march out of the locker room, invisible emotional walls blocking him from figuring out his stoic, reserved friend.

-One Week Later and into the Mission-

Heero sat bored, staring at a blank computer screen, tapping irritably on the wood desk his laptop sat upon in a dark and dingy motel room. The mission was virtually over, and it had been absurdly simple. All he had to do was hack into the security systems of the businesses the Vazov Family had infiltrated into, and to watch over Quatre's interaction with them, and into their secret – not so secret now – headquarters to watch and direct Duo through the maze of the place, so his braided companion could get the intel they needed. Duo had been bummed out by the exclusion of any and all explosives. Heero on the other hand was disheartened by the fact that all he had to do was sit in their motel room and play watch dog. It was so basic and effortless that it made him wonder why Une had chosen three of her best Agents to complete it.

And now that Duo was on his way back, the mission was pretty much done for. Last he checked on Quatre, the blond had been sitting in the restaurant on the bottom floor of WEI  with his sister, Iria. Straying from the mission parameters was usually frowned upon, but since they were on his home colony, Quatre decided to face the possible wrath of Lady Une later for it. She really didn't scare him so much now that she was _Commander_ Une.

As Heero continued to strum his fingers on the wooden surface, his laptop booted back up all on its own. _/Holy.../_ Tensing incredibly in his chair, a light perspiration began to seep from his forehead, and his heart began to hammer in his chest. There had only ever been one person who could override his laptop like that…

The image of a snapping claw appeared, followed by the face of an elderly, wrinkly man with long white hair and strange bionicle glasses.

Doctor J smiled at his old student. "Heero..." his old voice sounded feeble.

"Doctor J," Heero whispered, and moved in close to the screen. The old man appeared even older, his frame and claw trembled as if he couldn't control the function of his body anymore.

"How are you, Heero? I'm glad you've decided to stick with that name and make a life for yourself by it," the old scientist praised.

"I thought you were dead."

Doctor J laughed weakly, "No, we got away. All of us."

Curiosity made Heero asked, "Why are you contacting me now?"

"Well," the old man sighed, "I wanted to make sure you were alright before I die, adjusting to peace and all. I wasn't surprised to learn that you and the others had joined the Preventers. It's a good fit for the lot of you."

"You're dying?" Heero asked, a pang of sadness jolted his heart. Doctor J had been a great mentor and supporter of his life's decision. The man had tried to put a halt to his re-training, thinking it inhumane to remake the small boy into an emotionless killing machine. After Odin, the weird scientist had become his somewhat father figure, and he definitely protected him from the other L1 scientists whom wanted to terminate him. Heero had been used to the idea of J being dead for sometime, but now that he was seeing the old man, much older and weaker than the last, made him depressed.

The Japanese man couldn't think of anything to say, so J went on. "Have you completed the transformation?"

"No," Heero answered honestly, shaking his head. "I get the surgery in July, and after two months of healing it will all be done."

"Do the others know?"

The blue-eyed man wanted to lie, fabricate the reality he was in like he did with Dr. Forester, but this was Doctor J, one of the few people who knew and defended his desire to change. "No, I haven't told any of them, and I won't tell them either."

"Why not?" The elderly man questioned curiously.

"They already treat me the way I want them to, and I don't want that to change."

"I see," Doctor J acknowledged. "So, then you aren't romantically involved with anyone yet."

"Um, not necessarily,” the blue-eyed man admitted with a mild blush gracing his checks. “I'm getting rather involved with Duo Maxwell, the Deathscythe pilot," Heero confessed sheepishly.

The scientists’ bushy eyebrows rose comically to his forehead, wrinkling the skin oddly around his modern form of glasses. "So, you're a homosexual?" He chuckled. "Well that's interesting. I would have assumed that since you're going through all of this you would be heterosexual."

Heero shrugged and snickered as well. "Yeah, well, I never thought much of my sexuality until after the war."

"So nothing ever happened between you and Miss Relena Peacecraft?" Doctor J asked, arching an eyebrow over his bionic eye.    

"No, she's just a very important person in my life and a good friend."

A short pause of silence followed. Doctor J pinched his lip between his claw before asking, “If Maxwell doesn’t know about your situation then why is he looking into your history?”

A heavy weight settled in his gut as if he’d swallowed a brick. “What do you mean ‘looking into my history’?” Heero questioned, throat tight with anxiety.

“I’ve been informed that he’s made contact with one of our former test subjects,” the old scientist elaborated.

“Who?”

“Test Subject C.”

“I don’t think I know her,” Heero mumbled into his fist, shoulders relaxing slightly from relief.

“Him,” Doctor J rectified. “Test Subject C is a man. If you didn’t know him, the Maxwell didn’t attain any information on you. There’s very few Test Subjects that are still alive today. They’re all dying from the treatment.”

“Yeah, I know about that…am I going to-”

J interrupted, “No, you should be fine. I altered the initial drugs you were given and you were exposed to them over a longer course of time. We knew the drugs would destroy the host body after a certain amount of time, but we weren’t concerned with progressing life at the time.”

“Why did you go out of your way to help me?” Heero asked. It was a question that occasionally came back to him. Part of him knew Doctor J had conducted his mission something differently with him, advocated for him when the other scientist wanted to terminate him.

“I’m not sure,” Doctor J replied honestly. “I saw something in you, and I wanted you to live. I don’t know if you’ll live a normal life span, you could be degenerating at a slower rate, but you seem fine right now.”

That answer appeased some of Heero’s nerves. Periodically he would wonder why he was better off then the other Test Subjects, but the Japanese man never let it weigh heavily on his mind and tried to live by his emotions in the here and now. “Yeah, my physical health is not a concern…I can’t let Duo dig up my past, what should I do?”

“Think of a way to distract him, throw him off whatever trail he’s traveling down,” Doctor J advised. “I’ll start deleting files.”

The two of them continued to discuss Heero’s options and chosen path of life for a good while. Doctor J wanted to make sure his prodigy was functioning, well adjusted, and overall happy. He cared deeply for the young man he trained. Heero was like a son to him, a child he had to force into a war, but a son nonetheless. Odin Lowe had felt the same protectiveness over the small child that would later become Heero Yuy, which was why he taught the kid everything he knew. A specific strength always shined through Heero, even as a young child. Odin and J saw this strength and protected it, helped it to grow, all the while holding the boys’ secret close to heart.

"This might be my last contact with you, Heero. I hope life treats you well."

"Thank you, J. For everything." And with that, the line was disconnected and the screen went blank.

Heero allowed himself to feel the necessary relief of saying a final goodbye to an important person who held great influence over his life. Doctor J hadn't been the monster that forced him into retraining. It was the only alternative he had to approving the death of Test Subject K. Doctor J saw the potential in Heero; saw that he could be the one who would fulfill Operation Meteor; saw that the kid could over come his predicament and triumph. The hardest moment through the war was when the old man surrendered to Lady Une but refused to hand over the Gundams.  Unfounded as it was, Doctor J held onto hope that his soldier lived through the self-detonation.

Minutes after the line was cut, Duo entered the drab motel room. The braided man glanced around the bleak square room, and a mischievous smile played on his lips making his violet eyes sparkle. "Q-ball not back yet?"

Heero shook his head.

The braided man didn't seem to notice the gloomy air around the dark haired man. Duo's grin broadened as he yanked Heero from his chair, pulled the man to fall on top of him, bouncing on a squeaky mattress. "Then you and I should have a little fun before he does," Duo chuckled whispery and claimed Heero's mouth with his own.

As things heated up, the two men began to grind their groins together, gaining friction that heightened their arousal. Heero shoved a hand between the two of them, clutched Duo’s cock over his pants and stroked roughly. Duo replied with the same action, but Heero pushed the braided man's hand further between his legs to fondle his testicles through the thick material of his jeans. He didn't want his partner’s hand on his member, but that notion was lost on Duo for he was ecstatic that they’d progressed to pawing between the legs in the first place. There were few areas below the belt he would permit for groping, and the blue-eyed man gained more gratification from “different” stimuli.

The pressure between his abdomen and thighs intensified as Heero kept petting him over his stretchy fabric pants.

"Fuck," he gasped, pulling his mouth off the Japanese man's neck. "You're going to make me cum," Duo whined.

That pleading, needy, _horny_ tone made Heero's loins constrict unbearably as he lifted off the man, nimbly undid Duo's pants, and pushed his hand beneath the other mans boxers. The violet-eyed man drew in a loud, harsh breath and dug his fingers into Heero's shirt, scratching at his shoulder blades. Heero savored the feeling of Duo's girth in his grasp while he continued to pump him with furor. Gratification washed over Heero in tidal waves. The feel of Duo’s soft sex in his hand was mind blowing, and though he knew he wouldn’t reach ultimate ecstasy with his long time crush, the sensations of their actions heightened his own pleasures. As of now, this was as far as Heero had ever gotten to sex; it was new, exciting, and intoxicating.

The pressure soon became too much, and Duo sank his teeth in the juncture of the blue-eyed man's neck and shoulder which was already marred with hickeys and teeth indentations. Moaning into the flesh between his jaws, the braided man came hard under Heero's diligent, sensual touch. Flicking his thumb over the head of Duo's cock, Heero teased the sensitive, post-orgasmic flesh, making Duo twitch, jerk, and whimper underneath him. Pulling his hand free from Duo's pants, never having pulled his shaft completely from his boxers, he wiped his sticky semen covered fingers on the grungy comforter, and drove his tongue back between Duo's parted, swollen panting lips.

Fumbling with the button of Heero's jeans, Duo professed breathlessly with his body arching upwards, "I want to touch you." Believing that if Heero were willing to jerk him off, he would be ready and eager for the favor returned.

Heero was about to refute the needy desire to reciprocate, push that strong hand away, but the door burst open and in marched Quatre who paused at the sight of Duo laying underneath Heero with flushed cheeks, perspiring brow, and pouty lips. Thankfully, they were clothed, and Heero had never felt so grateful to be imposed upon.

"Uhhh..." was all Quatre could sound out.

Heero sat up and pulled away from Duo, who was quick to roll over and button his pants back up.

"Should I leave you two alone for a bit longer?" Quatre asked, laughing awkwardly and ran a hand through his blond silky combed backed hair. He was rather happy to see the two of them finally getting somewhere, but it was painfully uncomfortable to walk in on a private intimate moment.

"No, no. It's fine," Heero answered rapidly, adjusting himself with his back turned to the two, which made Duo roll his eyes irritably and grumble unheard words under his breath. He wanted to tell Quatre to get the fuck out and come back in an hour or two, but it seemed like Heero was fine with stopping there even though he hadn't came. The entire experience had been more than he could ask for and he _really_ didn’t want it to continue. Assessing his crotch from the corner of his eye, the braided man could see there was no defining bulge of arousal, so apparently the mood had been killed rather swiftly thanks to their Arab friend.

The night, though awkward at first, continued as if nothing had been happening between zero-one and zero-two. The three of them watched the news until they fell asleep one by one. Quatre had his own bed and Duo had the other; there was a cot present, but Duo leaned heavily against Heero when he fell asleep, and the Japanese man was too comfortable to move or push Duo away. He fell asleep soon after the braided man, feeling uncommonly safe in his presence. Quatre smiled to himself and exchanged text messages with Trowa, informing him of their two friends probable new status.

_“Jesus Christ! I hope they’re finally getting together.”_ Trowa asserted via text.

Smirking, Quatre replied, _“Me too, and I think they’ve finally reached that point.”_

-The Next Day-

The former Sandrock and Wing pilots caught the earliest flight back to Earth and arrived well into the evening at HQ. Duo on the other hand called Une early on to inform her that he would be making a personal detour to the L3 cluster. She argued with him a great deal, giving the braided man a bit of headache, but in the end she agreed to let him wander off – against protocol of all things. Everyone was supposed to report back to HQ for the debriefing, no matter the nature of the assignment, but Duo didn’t really give her a choice. He was going, and the call to her was made out of courtesy. Une told him he wouldn’t be paid in his absence, and Duo was perfectly fine with that for he had more important things to attend to.

Over the course of the flight to the most distant colony, Duo kept himself busy on the commercial flight by diving back into computer files that he hadn’t opened since the end of the Eve’s War. Professor G’s documents held very limited information on the other scientists, the Gundams they created, and the boys who piloted them, but miniscule was better than none. Finding a loophole that allowed him to hack into Professor G’s private messages with the others scientist divulged some details. The little information he gathered on Heero and Doctor J was that the old creepy scientist with the claw for a hand had an open dialogue with the other colony scientists. It appeared the old man needed to know Heero’s location around the same time each month. If the Japanese boy had been away from his Gundam – which at times they were – and wasn’t able to make contact with him, J would search for his whereabouts through the locality of the other Gundam pilots. The encrypted messages were short, uninformative, and took too long to decode. Starting with the messages from the end of the war yield nothing of value, so Duo switched up his tactics and searched through the correspondences from the beginning of Operation Meteor.

The second message generated answers and added more questions to the long list running in Duo’s head. It was a brief back and forth between Professor G and Doctor J that was longer than most of the other messages.

_G: Why do you have to keep such close tabs on your soldier? Didn’t you train him sufficiently to stand on his own?_

_J: There’s a regimen he has to receive to function properly._

_G: What kind of regimen? Your group was the one making super-soldiers, did your little experiment go wrong or is he a faulty prototype of your other “secret” program?_

_J: He needs to inject himself with Serum 009-T and INGS-5._

_G: …INGS-5? You’ve got to be kidding me. What the hell possessed you to put someone like that in charge of your Gundam? Do you know what will happen if he falls into the wrong hands?_

The message ended there with no further response from Doctor J, and Duo was left puzzled. Why would Heero need maintenance, injections of sorts? Re-reading the message for the second time a distant, long forgotten memory came rushing back.

-Flashback-

_“There, I pulled yours up too. You could at least show a little gratitude. Hmm, what’s he doing?” Duo said, talking more to himself since the boy behind him wasn’t listening._

_Heero was laid out on the floor, leg up against the railing, fumbling with his knee. The Japanese boy groaned loudly as he readjusted his leg until it finally popped back into place with a sickening crack._

_“Uh, I can’t take much more of this,” Duo moaned, forehead pressed into his palm. “He just goes and puts a broken bone back into place. Man, that just totally grossed me just thinkin’ about it.”_

_The freak of kid limped to the edge of the platform to peer over the edge and gazed at his retrieved Gundam. Duo finished the task of hauling the Mobile Suit out of the ocean. They marched inside the bunker of the ship to gather tools for making repairs, and there by the necessary implements was a plain, small cardboard box that had appeared out of thin air._

_Picking it up, the braided boy shook the box and wondered aloud, “What’s this and where did it come from?”_

_“It’s mine,” Heero harped, yanking the box from Duo’s hands._

_Duo watched as Heero opened the box, let out a soft sigh of relief while looking down at the two syringes in his hand. He placed them back into the box and wandered off, leaving the braided teen suspicious and confused. Five minutes later, Heero rejoined Duo on the dock, tools at the ready, and they worked silently on their respected war machines._

_He never asked any questions._

-End Flashback-

That memory from so long ago, back when the blue-eyed man was a boy and didn’t trust his comrade one bit – didn’t even think of him as an ally yet. It was such an inconspicuous memory, and that he’d only seen Heero receive a package that one time made Duo almost forget about it completely. Now that it had come back to him, the recollection held new significant meaning. Getting back to searching, Duo researched the two serums mentioned in the short correspondence. Unfortunately, that hunt was completely pointless, which didn’t surprise the violet-eyed man in the slightest. 

Exasperated and tired, Duo reclined his seat as far back as it would go and decided to get some much needed sleep before landing. His nap wasn’t all that restful, a crying toddler and a racing mind kept him from reaching REM, but the braided man was a little less exhausted once his eyes peeled open.

It was extremely late when the flight disembarked, close to one in the morning. Rather than checking into a hotel for the night, Duo decided to take a taxi straight to the hospital to find Nadia McKenna. He had found her location by hacking into hospital records. He knew which hospice care she was in, which floor, and which room. Sneaking past the nurse while she had her back turned, the violet-eyed man was about to venture down the hall when his sixth sense kicked in. Something told him to hang back and sit tight before going to Nadia’s room. Sitting in the visitors lounge out of sight of the nurse for ten minutes proved his psychic senses. Two men in dark suits exited the room he would soon be entering. Duo got up and moved further into a shadowed corner in hopes of remaining unseen and to eavesdrop on the whispering men in black.

“We wasted time coming here. She’s too degraded to remember anything about the droids and we knew that,” a tall, bald white man complained.

“The commander wanted us to check her out and we did. Now stop your bitching. We’ve got others to find,” his slender African partner reprimanded.

The two disappeared into the elevator, never having seen Duo lurking in corner of the visitor’s room.

_/Does Une know something about this droid thing?/_ Duo wondered. He couldn’t be sure. Maybe they were Agents of a different agency because with his clearance, Duo knew every Agents face but not their names, and he’d never laid eyes those two men before. There were people higher up than Une, that much the braided man knew, so maybe there was a hyper sensitive mission underway that neither he nor the other pilots were aware about. 

As Duo passed through the threshold of the patients’ room, closing the door softly behind him, the figure in the bed stirred in a jerking motion.

“Leave me alone!” the woman bellowed.

“Shhh, I’m not one of the men who just visited you,” he whispered.

The frail woman in the uncomfortable hospital bed turned to appraise him. She shook like a leaf as she asked, “Who are you?”

Walking closer to the bed, Duo pulled the hood of his jacket off his head and asked kindly, “May I turn on the light?”

“No,” the woman said hoarsely. “I’m tired and I don’t know you. Go away.”

“Nadia please, it’s important that I speak with you.”

Her head jerked around to glare at him because he had said her name unlike the other men who referred to her as “Test Subject N”.

Nadia lay there unmoving and silent. Taking her lifelessness as an agreement to his wish, Duo reached for the light switch beside her bed. A soft, mellow light flickered on, nothing as harsh as bright florescent bulbs but it changed the dynamic of the room greatly.

With the light on, Duo could clearly see the bright vibrancy of her red hair, the clouded color of her green eyes, the yellow hue to what he assumed was supposed to be her normally porcelain like skin. Ezra looked like a shining example of health compared to the gaunt, shaky, partially blind Nadia McKenna before him.

“What do you want?” She asked as he pulled a chair close to her bed and sat down.

Extracting the same pocket photo of Heero that he’d shown Ezra, Duo handed the little thin rectangle to her and asked, “Do you know him?”

Grabbing the picture with her bony fingers, Nadia brought it close to her face. A warm smile spread across her face. “It’s K,” she whispered.

“Kay?”

“K was a good one. He saved me,” she reminisced, her voice beginning to quiver.

“How did he save you?” the braided man asked on the edge of his seat.

“He saved me from the explosion…the explosion…the explosion at Steenbok Sector Base,” she answered weakly; her chest began to heave heavily.

Duo parroted, “Steenbok?” The name was unfamiliar.

“I saved him because the explosion…the explosion…it was loud,” Nadia whimpered, thrashing her head back and forth, sending her red ringlets flying. Her vital signs on the monitors began to rise and he knew if she continued to excite herself, get her heart rate up, the machines would ping and alert the nurses. 

Placing a hand over her forehead, Duo tried to soothe her. “Stay with me Nadia, please.”

“What do you want?”

“Can you tell me anything more about him?”

“About who?”

“The man in the picture.”

She brought the picture back up to her now perspiring face. Her brows pinched in confusion as she remarked, “I don’t know him.” And she dropped the photograph to the floor.

Retrieving the photo, Duo turned his back to Nadia to hide his frustration and to avoid adding to her distress. He placed the picture back in wallet, released an exhausted sigh, and rubbed his forehead. This was a dead end. She did and didn’t know him. He saved her or she saved him. Nadia’s memory was obviously malfunctioning. Maybe one of those versions was true, or maybe she really didn’t know who Heero was. Either way, Duo decided to turn off the light and leave on the next craft destined for Europe. He had wasted enough time here and there were other individuals he could hunt down.

While on his second commercial flight in less than twenty-four hours, Duo investigated into Steenbok Sector Base and found something rather interesting. Steenbok was one of the first Alliance occupation bases to come under attack on the L1 colony before the official start of the war. The perpetrators were never caught, and it was believed to be an action done by a small terrorist group who fought for the Colony Autonomy Organization and the beliefs of the original Heero Yuy.

“Hm, well this is interesting,” Duo whispered under his breath. He wondered if Heero would be forthcoming about this place if he asked. Returning his attention back to the hacked files, Duo glared in disbelief at finding everything had been erased.

-Back Track-

Quatre and Heero returned to Earth, and openly wondered about Duo’s change of destination and how he’d twisted Une’s arm into letting him do so. The suspicious part of Heero contemplated the probability of Duo continuing his search, and prayed for Doctor J to eradicate all the incriminating files in time. They arrived back at Headquarters well into the night, unpacked their basic belongings into their lockers and proceeded to their Commander’s office.

The debrief was in fact quick, and Heero, being an assiduous Agent, decided to get a jump-start on his typed report. Unlocking the door to his office, Heero noticed scratch markings around the keyhole. Turning the key, he became aware that the lock didn't _click_ when he turned it to the left. The door was already unlocked. Heero never left his office open when he was gone. Lightly pushing the door open, the blue-eyed man took in the site of the interior space of his office. Disbelief made his shoulders slack. Taking a few steps in the door, Heero appraised the damage. Broken glass littered the floor from shattered, beloved picture frames. Papers strewn about, covering most of the carpet in white debris. His desktop computer lay in shambles on the carpet, keyboard lying below the cracked window that peered down thirteen stories below. The pungent smell of urine wafted to through his nostrils, and Heero took in the sight of his wet desk, which had obviously been the target of degradation.

The Japanese man stood halfway into his office before someone approached him from behind. Quatre walked in, wanting a word with Heero before he left, but the torn up workspace made him pause and forget what he had wanted to ask.

"Oh my god," he whispered, taking a step closer to Heero.

The other man said nothing as his blond friend trudged up behind him. Placing a hand on Heero's shoulder, Quatre meant to comfort his friend, but the man's guard was down and flashes of Heero's memory flickered before his eyes like a movie reel spinning out of control. Heero didn't notice the contact for a few seconds, but when he did he pulled harshly away from Quatre.

But the damage was done.

Quatre had seen many things. Too many memories to piece together and make sense of, but he saw glimpses of fleeting recollections. A young girl with dark brown hair in a floral dress walking through a desolate burned down area of a colony, barefoot. A rugged blond man reaching his hand out with a welcoming smile on his face. Small fingers lacing over the cold black metal handle of a gun. The blond man lying prone, dying from a seeping gunshot wound. The memory of an ancient man with a clawed hand taking hold of a small wrist and promising protection and understanding. A red headed girl with blazing green eyes holding an axe above her head. A little girl with an orange flower and a yellow dog. That same Labrador lying deceased in snow and ash.

Quatre felt the horrifying emotions: anger, distress, loneliness, and fear.

He also witnessed an image of Duo he'd never seen. The braided pilot, young and wiry, holding a gun and firing it twice. Relena shocked and tending to bleeding wounds. An explosion that rocked Heero and sent him flying to the ice covered ground of the Antarctic headfirst. That small piece of Libra that descended to the Earth, and the determination to save the whole human race from ultimate annihilation. He saw a strong male hand shake that of a female's, agreeing to be apart of Earth and Space's police force to protect the righteous civilians from harm. Quatre saw the crestfallen face of Relena as Heero whispered, "I'll always be your friend." Flashes of Duo; smiling, frowning, laughing, confused, irritated, winking, twisting in erotic pleasure, fluttered in his mind. Images of Agent Donahue - whom Quatre didn't know by name, but the surname was announced through his touch – passed by. The Agent smiling appreciative to his superior, and then scowling as he found out _something_. The last image was of Heero looking down at his own body, but the psychic premonition fuzzed around the edges and he could see no further than the nave.

Quatre inhaled sharply as Heero twisted away from him. He had not intended to see into his friend's memory bank. Heero's distracted mind allowed him in, and he knew wasn't supposed to see the things he did, even if they didn't make an ounce sense.

Stumbling, he didn't know if his Arab comrade had seen anything of importance, but those light blue eyes were lost in a daze, consumed by memories he wasn't suppose to be acquainted with. In his panic, not knowing what Quatre had gathered through his enhanced Space Heart, Heero clutched him by the shirt collar and hauled him up against the wall.

"You saw _nothing_!" He seethed fearsomely.

Blinking rapidly, Quatre shook his head in the negative response.

"You didn't see **anything**!" This time he yelled, not caring if anyone was nearby to overhear.

"I didn't see!" Quatre defended as Heero shoved him repeatedly against the wall.

"You did! Tell me what you saw!"

"I can't make sense of it, I swear!" His defense was weak, yet truthful.

Again pushing Quatre harshly against the wall, Heero threatened, "You tell no one! Not even Trowa what you saw! You hear me?!"

Nodding his head compliantly, Quatre agreed to Heero's demands. He wasn't scared of the genetically altered man, though he should be. The blond felt the grasp loosen and release his shirt collar, allowing his feet to settle on the ground again. In his rage, Heero had lifted his friend off the ground and shook him against the wall of his office like a rag doll. Anyone else would have shit bricks out of fear of Heero's strength, but not Quatre. He knew Heero would do no real harm, and that this outburst had been directed upon him out of momentary panic.

Letting go, Heero's hands trembled. Ashamed, he turned away from Quatre. "Leave," he commanded in that monotonous tone, refusing to allow any emotion strain his voice.

Quatre nodded his head though his Japanese friend couldn't see with his back turned to him.

Quickly leaving the office, the Arab inhaled deep nervous breaths through his mouth; disturbed by the memories he'd seen. Who was the young girl? Who was the blond man, was that Odin? What had Agent Donahue seen that made him react the way he did?

Quatre allowed himself to slide down along the metal wall of the elevator to sit on his butt. The memories were clouded in confusion, but the emotions attached to those recollections made his heart bleed profusely for Heero. The overwhelming feeling was "wrongness". A sense of being wrong, born wrong, acting wrong, and wrong decision-making. The word "WRONG" kept hammering through his mind as the elevator descended.

What could be so _wrong_ with Heero? Had his training been that hard on him? To the point where he felt everything he did and was, was undeniably wrong?

With Quatre gone, Heero began the onerous task of cleaning his office. A tear trickled down his left cheek, but he swiped it away, squashed the physical reaction to sorrow, and he viciously scolded himself, _/Get a fucking grip. Boys don't cry./_


End file.
